


total detestation

by ceto



Series: what is this feeling [2]
Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Anal Fingering, Dirty Talk, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Falling In Love, M/M, Masturbation, Phone Sex, Pining, Porn with Feelings, Sexting, Slow Burn, blatant biting kink, canon Compliant through episode 10, i'm so sorry next time i promise they'll actually have sex, vague praise kink and language kink if you squint
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-18
Updated: 2016-12-18
Packaged: 2018-09-09 10:56:00
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,600
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8888197
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ceto/pseuds/ceto
Summary: JJ tries to stifle a laugh and the resulting sound most closely resembles a snort. “Are you always this feisty after you’ve had mind-blowing phone sex?”“I’ll let you know if I ever have mind-blowing phone sex.”
  —————
They're not friends. They're just two people who get off together sometimes.





	

**Author's Note:**

> You should be able to hover over the Russian/French for the English translations. I apologize for any translation errors. 
> 
> (For those interested, this work is the second part in a series and immediately follows the events of the first installment. It takes place during the 2017 skating season and can be read as a standalone. It's basically just filth.)
> 
> Yuri is sixteen for the entirety of this piece. He is legally able to consent in both Russia and Canada. This has been tagged 'underage' as a courtesy to those who may be sensitive to age differences.

They don’t talk about it afterwards, not in a way that means anything. In the morning, Yuri's phone greets him with a cheerful message from JJ which reads simply: _Sleep well?_

He rubs at his eyes and swipes his hair out of his face. He slept better than he has in a while, but he knows owning up to it will just add to JJ’s ego. He feels a contentedness in his muscles, a satisfaction in his bones. It almost feels like last night was a dream but he can see the text messages in his history, and one call in his phone log. In the light of day it makes him flush, the inescapable of evidence of the fact that he'd actually let such a cocky asshole get under his skin. In the end, he responds with a simple: _I slept fine. No better than usual._

* * *

They keep texting in the week that follows. It's easier to be himself like this, when he can't see JJ’s face, can't see the smirk or bristle at the easy closeness the other skater brings to their interactions. Being in the same room as JJ feels like being in the same room as an open flame. He’s always present in a way that Yuri doesn’t know how to ignore. Somehow, their phone conversations are different. He doesn't feel goaded into fights and he doesn’t feel the constant need to perform. He knows he’s safe behind the flickering screen of a cell phone. There are no facial expressions to give him away in a moment of weakness. Like this, they could almost be friends.

It’s something that has never come easily to Yuri. With the exception of Otabek, he’s only ever found friendship by accident.

Yuuri Katsuki was the ultimate accident. Yuri can’t put his finger on the exact moment they went from rivals for Victor’s attention, rivals in the Grand Prix, to something companionable. For all his bluster, Yuri knows that the other man cares for him. Yuuri is competitive, but he’s never been unfriendly, even when Yuri all but begged him for a fight.

Aside from Yuuri, there’s Victor, Mila, and Georgi. He supposes he’s free to consider them friends instead of rink mates. He likes them. They like him. None of them have outright stated their intentions like Otabek, but he’s pretty sure. Still, JJ has formed a category all his own.

Soon enough, Yuri leaves the hotel and goes back home to prepare for the Grand Prix. He needs to work on creating a program that’s guaranteed to win. He’s pushing himself hard, and after his narrow defeat in Moscow, he knows his effort will be worth it once the time comes. JJ is better than he’s ever been, but so is Yuri.

He falls back into training with the rest of Yakov’s skaters and tries to ignore the memory of JJ’s voice in his ear. When he skates, he still uses his rage, the fervent desire to surpass JJ as a method of motivation. It annoys him at the same time that it fills him with energy.

His new program is nothing like his last. In last year’s Grand Prix he performed agape, but this year, his program is about passion. The routine incorporates more mature sex appeal elements, but it’s not the crux of the piece. Instead, it depicts multiple forms of passion. It’s almost an ode to his own ambition. (He might be embarrassed by the subject matter if it weren’t for the fact that he’s seen JJ perform to his own theme song.)

This year, the competition is stiff, but not insurmountable. Aside from JJ, he’s watchful of Otabek and Phichit. He talks to Otabek every few days. He texts to tell him about his day and Otabek responds in kind. It’s an easy friendship. They have things in common, and Yuri knows exactly what to expect. The Kazakh skater is nothing like JJ, although they may have similar haircuts. Otabek is even tempered and utterly sincere. He says exactly what he means. Yuri likes that about him, but that doesn’t mean he won’t take him down.

When it comes to Phichit, he’s mostly concerned that the Thai skater is simply more likeable than he is. Phichit has a kind of a showmanship that Yuri admires, but which he doesn’t possess. They each perform showmanship in their own ways.

When Phichit skates, people clap the whole time.

When Yuri skates, everyone holds their breath.

He knows his competition is working hard, and all he can do is resolve to train harder.

* * *

The next time they talk, it’s inconvenient timing. He’s at his home rink in Moscow, more than a week after their first call. Yuri’s pieced together a great deal about the other skater from the content of his texts. JJ is a night owl. He likes to make breakfast himself but he’ll settle for a greasy drive through sandwich if he has to. He enjoys cooking, but he insists he can’t bake for shit. It’s the kind of information that Yuri has trouble thinking of as useful spy material.

He’s leaning against the side of the rink, scrolling through his Instagram when he spots a selfie of JJ. The other skater and his dog are out running. They appear to be on some kind of trail. Luca is leading the way and the photo partially obscures his face, but JJ still looks good. He’s hashtagged the post into oblivion and it has an obscene number of likes. Yuri rolls his eyes. Against his better judgment, he likes JJ’s picture. He doesn’t really know why he does it, but he assures himself that the notification will get lost amongst a sea of others, and it makes him feel better. He’s startled out of his thoughts when he feels someone approach him from behind.

“Morning,” Mila says cheerfully, tugging back the hood of his jacket. She snorts a little at the sight of his hair in disarray.

“Drinking coffee again?” he deadpans, smoothing at the long strands.

“I don’t need caffeine to get on your nerves. You’re a light touch,” she winks, skillfully avoiding the question.

Yuri gives a muted _hmpf_ in response, but resumes his scrolling.

He’s mid-stretch when his phone rings not twenty minutes later. He keeps it on silent during practice but it vibrates loudly against the wooden edge of the ice rink walls. Yuri knows better than to answer his calls in public, but this one wasn't predicated by a text and he's curious. Yakov is nowhere in sight but Mila peers over at him with raised brows. He extends his leg in the air and turns away from her, bringing the phone to his ear.

“I knew you were warming up to me!” JJ says, in lieu of a greeting.

“You have a cute dog. Don’t read into it.” Yuri shoots back begrudgingly, immediately piecing together the reason for the call. Of course, JJ is probably so damn conceited that he leaves his notifications on, even though they must come in almost constantly. Honestly, it’s not like Yuri’s appreciation of a single photo is worthy of a call.

“I’ll do my best. Have you had a nice day, kitten?” JJ sounds a little bit tired and Yuri automatically calculates the time difference in his head. It’s late in Canada, but that doesn’t excuse the nickname.

“I’m hanging up now,” Yuri informs him.

“Wait! Fine, how was your day Yuri?” JJ asks, like this is somehow better. He’s not even being particularly salacious, but the way the other skater says his name leaves him feeling on edge. It brings warmth to the tips of his ears, and he’s grateful for the long blond hair that hides them. It’s a meager echo of the way JJ moaned over the phone, needy and desperate, but that doesn’t mean Yuri doesn’t remember.

“It hasn’t started yet. I’m at the rink. I need to go,” Yuri tells him. He tries to keep his voice slow and steady but he knows he has to get JJ off the phone quickly before he says something else unexpected, anything else that will throw him off. (Or worse, leave him remembering their last conversation that night in the hotel.)

“I understand. Good luck out there today,” JJ says, his voice warm and sincere.

“You too…” Yuri mutters back, on autopilot and stealing glances at Mila, who watches him out of the corner of her eye with blatant curiosity. Her expression is a challenge and he looks away quickly.

“Talk to you after practice?” JJ asks. He sounds hopeful and he doesn’t bother hiding it.

“Sure,” Yuri agrees, in part because he might actually want to talk to JJ later, and in part because he simply wants the other man off the phone. He makes the money to support his family but he doesn’t actually handle the process of paying the bills. He has no desire to explain the long distance charges to Yakov or his grandfather.

“Who was that?” Mila asks, the moment he hangs up. She takes a break from her warm up and moves over towards him.

“No one important.” Yuri says, shifting to extend his opposite limb in the air. The pleasure of pure physical exertion courses through him, and he tries to focus on that instead of the look on Mila’s face.

She enters his personal space like it means nothing and leans over his shoulder, as if his phone might provide her answers. “You’ve never talked to anyone on the phone before…”

“My grandfather calls me all the time,” Yuri glares, hoping that if he remains deliberately obtuse, she’ll let this go.

“Well, you’ve never made _that expression_ before…” she clarifies.

“What expression?”

“The ‘I don’t hate you’ expression. The blushing expression.”

“I don’t blush, you shit!” Yuri lies. He’s deeply unsettled by the idea that it looks like he _doesn’t hate_ JJ, but refuses to focus on it now for fear of giving her more ammunition.

She grinds her tiny fist into his blond locks, giving him a noogie. “Seriously, who was it?”

“Don’t you have anyone else to annoy?” Yuri asks.

It’s the wrong thing to say, he realizes too late. He should have told her it was Otabek or Yuuri. Once she’s got something in her head, Mila is just as stubborn as he is. She’s clearly about to launch into some kind of speech when Yakov notices the two of them and calls them out onto the ice. They start practice after that and Yuri is spared the effort of coming up with a lie.

  
For the rest of the day he does everything possible to avoid her questioning expression. Even Georgi notices the shift in mood, but thankfully he’s too preoccupied to let himself be dragged into Mila’s teasing. Yuri refuses to give in and she spends the rest of the day naming off progressively more ridiculous people. Even in her wildest guesses, she never names JJ.

* * *

 JJ doesn’t call after practice, and Yuri doesn’t call him. He sees no point in initiating the conversation when he doesn’t have anything to say. He figures if JJ wants to hold him to his promise, that’s his prerogative. Besides, it seems almost like some kind of tactical error, like it would be giving up power to even begin to admit the fact that he might want to talk to the other skater. He reminds himself that they’re not _actually_ at war, they’re just competitors, but something inside him still rebels at the idea of ceding even a modicum of control.

They keep texting on and off all evening, after JJ wakes up for the day. Yuri has piroshkis for dinner with his grandfather, Lilia and Yakov. JJ informs him that he had a movie night with his brother and sister instead of eating dinner the night before. His sister chose the new Star Wars movie and JJ is incredibly proud of her taste.

Their schedules are different, but there’s enough of an overlap to make some conversation possible. Still, it’s not until the next day after practice that his phone starts ringing. He’s sprawled out with Boris, relaxing in bed after a long day. Lilia and Yakov are out for dinner. They’d invited him, but he turned them down in favor of heating up last night’s leftovers. He expects them to be gone for at least an hour, so he figures there’s no harm in answering.

“Good morning,” JJ says, sounding tired but cheerful. His voice has a peculiar quality to it that Yuri can’t exactly place, but which he instinctively recognizes.

“It’s not morning. I haven’t even had dinner. You’re utter shit at this time zone thing,” Yuri informs him.

“I’m a skater, not a scholar,” he says callously.

Against his will, Yuri snorts. It might just be the first time he’s ever heard JJ make a joke at his own expense, even if it is a shitty one.

“Besides, I can’t help that I wanted to talk to you,” he adds, as if that means he should be forgiven.

“Why _did_ you want to talk to me?” Yuri asks. He’s going for aggressive, but Boris chooses that exact moment to sidle up and nuzzle him and his voice softens slightly at the last second. At least that’s what he tells himself.

“Well, the other day I just wanted to chat, but I guess now…,” he trails off in a way that Yuri thinks he means with some significance.

He physically tenses as the realization clicks into place and he identifies the other sound in JJ’s voice.

_Well-fucked. Post-orgasm. Afterglow special._

“Are you fucking kidding me? You can't just call me up when you have a wet dream,” he says harshly, louder than he expected. His face is turning red. The sudden change in his voice causes Boris to turn up his nose in dissatisfaction and stalk to the other side of the room.

(Great, now even his cat is abandoning him.)

(JJ really is a menace.)

“But what am I supposed to do if it's your fault?”

“Whatever you usually do. It’s not my fault you can’t control your cock,” he sniffs.

“I can't control anything when I’m around you.”

They fall into a long silence. JJ makes declarations like this freely, as if it doesn't bringing an infuriating heat to Yuri’s cheeks. It's like the words don't cost him anything, like he's never been burned before in his life. It's guileless and it does something to Yuri.

He must have been silent too long because instead of waiting for a response, JJ asks: “Should I tell you what happened?”

“If I say ‘no’, are you going to stop?”

“If you actually mean it, then yes.” he says evenly, with total sincerity. To his surprise, Yuri finds that he believes him. JJ might be an utter asshole, but he’s never broken a promise.

They fall into another silence, but before JJ can say something that’s going to ruin this, before Yuri can overthink things, he asks quietly: “What happened in your dream?”

There’s a pleased hum in his ear and he thinks he hears the sound of a bed and blankets rustling, like the other skater is getting resituated. A part of him expects the response to come jokingly, but JJ’s voice is low and it sends a spark of arousal through his whole body.

“I was kissing you,” he begins, sounding very pleased with his own dream, or else just exceptionally pleased with the idea of kissing. “I woke up with you in my bed, like you'd gone to sleep there or something. You made fun of me for my morning wood.”

Yuri feels hot all over and his cock twitches in interest. “Well, at least your dreams of me are accurate.”

“I’d like to find out someday,” JJ says, then without waiting for him to respond, he continues. “We stripped down after that. I basically ripped your pants off, but god, you have such a beautiful cock. I was supposed to be opening you up, but I just couldn’t take my eyes off you. I took you in my hand and started working on getting you off.”

Desire burns in him, gently settling in the pit of his stomach and at the base of his spine. His balls tighten. It seems inevitable in hindsight that Jean-Jacques Leroy would be frustratingly good at this phone sex thing. Yuri is pretty sure he was born without the ability to feel embarrassment. Still, JJ’s words have brought his cock to attention. He lets out a slightly shaky breath and says: “Hold on a second.”

He doesn’t think about what he’s doing because he knows he’ll talk himself out of it. He sets his phone on the bed and springs up. He lets Boris out of the room, unwilling to allow his cat to see him like this. Then, although he knows his coaches are still out, he locks the door to his bedroom, just in case.

When he returns to the bed, he situates the phone between his shoulder and his ear. It would be easier just to put it on speakerphone but he thinks that represents too much commitment to what they’re about to do. He isn’t sure what words to use to get his bitter rival to continue describing his explicit sex dream, so he settles for making an annoyed sounding: “Ok.”

“Thought you left me for a minute there,” JJ drawls. There’s something in the way he says it that leaves Yuri with the clear mental image of him stroking his cock in slow, lazy pumps. It’s a vivid image, compounded by the fact that he’s _actually seen_ JJ like that before, rock hard and wanting him.

(He fervently ignores the fact that he still has the image somewhere on his phone.)

“Well, I’m here, aren’t I?”

“You are,” JJ says affectionately. “You were with me in the dream too. So reactive, so sensitive. I got my mouth around you and you put your hands on me to keep me there. You make the most beautiful noises. It felt so good to touch you like that, to watch your face while I sucked you off.”

There’s a brief pause, during which Yuri’s cock helpfully reminds him that he’s been neglecting to touch himself.  His hands are splayed out against sharp hipbones, tantalizingly close.

“Yuri, I want to see you like that someday.”

His resolve breaks at the words and he slides his hand beneath the elastic waistband of his sweatpants, beneath his boxers and takes himself in hand. He’s already embarrassingly hard as he begins to stroke himself lightly.

“Are you asking me for nudes?” Yuri asks, keeping his voice as level as possible.

“Yes, but I’m being very subtle about it,” JJ laughs, and the sound is loud and full. He's acting casual but there’s a hitch in his breath that betrays his interest in the matter. “Fuck, the thought of you, the image of you touching yourself, shit, Yuri, you’ve made a mess of me…”

Yuri moans, his loose grip tightening as his hand involuntarily speeds up. His movement is restricted by the pants and boxers that still cover his lower half, and he shucks them off. He needs the freedom of movement.

“Tell me how you're touching yourself?” JJ asks, sounding just a bit broken.

He answers before he can think about it. “I’m...in bed, just stroking. I’m… I guess I’m…,” he makes a sound of frustration, because he can’t do this like JJ. He can’t make himself open his mouth and admit to the way he runs his thumb over his slit, smoothing the leaking precum over the head of his cock and the palm of his hand.

“It’s okay. I can do the talking, chaton.”

Yuri still doesn’t love the pet name, but he appreciates the shift in responsibility. Talking is JJ’s forte as much as it is his curse.

Something deep inside tells him that things would be different if they were together right now. He’d never give up control this easily. Even now when he closes his eyes he can almost see JJ beneath him, pinned down to a hotel bed and finally, mercifully silent as Yuri rides him. It’s a rousing image, one that he thinks he’ll revisit on his own.

“I want to touch you so badly. I want to run my hands over every part of you, suck and bite all along your collarbone and the sides of your neck…,” JJ moans.

“You have a thing for biting?”

“Yes,” he admits. He doesn’t qualify the statement with anything, just lays out his preferences for Yuri’s judgement. His traitorous cock seems to grow impossibly harder with both the new information and the trust JJ is placing in him. He increases his pace.

He never imagined he would be talking about sex like this, about things he's never even done before. Things that suddenly sound _very good._ The idea of using his teeth on JJ in return appeals to him. Finally, he might have a way to take out the endless frustration the other man brings to his life. He imagines his fingers tugging through JJ’s horrifying black undercut, pulling at the strands until he exposes his neck. He imagines leaving marks that proclaim his passage there, a brand anyone could see.

It’s strange but they fall into a heated silence. Neither of them are really talking but they’re trading gasps, Yuri can hear the sound of skin on skin. They’re stuck in a feedback loop, locked in their own thoughts, spurred into fantasy. He imagines how they must look from the outside. In separate beds, on separate continents, moaning into the phone as they each chase their own release.

After a long moment, JJ breathes out. “Do you want to hear the end of it? The dream?”

“Yes.”

“I had my mouth around you. I brought you so close to the edge you could barely keep from thrusting in my mouth. I had to hold down your hips or you would have choked me. Before you could come, I pulled off. I started kissing my way down, down past your balls. You were so worked up for me, it was the hottest thing I’ve ever seen.” 

“Я хочу тебя!” Yuri gasps out, urgent and desperate, finding the admission is only possible in his native tongue, only possible in a way he knows his rival won’t understand. He’s never been touched like this, not like JJ is describing.

It seems that JJ doesn’t need a translator because he breaks with his story and moans in his ear, as if Yuri’s words were their own kind of pleasurable touch. “Oh, god have…,” he begins, like he wants to say more.

“What?” Yuri offers, slowing his strokes.

“I...I just …,” JJ hesitates, uncharacteristically nervous, then blurts out breathlessly. “Have you ever fingered yourself, Yuri?”

“No.” He doesn’t like to admit his inexperience, but he finds himself following JJ’s intensely honest lead. Before he can think about it he adds, “But I could.”

“If you want to try, I know I can make it good for you. I'm right here to talk you through it…” he says. JJ tries to keep his tone neutral, like he doesn’t care how he responds, but Yuri sees through that bullshit right away.

It’s a surprisingly tempting offer. He’s never given much thought to his ass. He understands the mechanics of it, but it always seemed daunting, especially when he has a perfectly good cock right in front of him. In truth, the idea makes him a little anxious, but he’s so turned on that he barely cares. It seems as good a time as any.

“You’ve done this before?”

“Not the phone sex, not before you. The fingering, yes.”

There’s a long pause while Yuri considers the offer. Finally, he asks: “What do I do?

“This will be easier on your hands and knees. Tilt your ass in the air for me, kitten.” His voice feels like it’s everywhere. It’s all around, it’s inside his head.

He trusts JJ to make this good for him. He shifts in the bed, moving from his back to his hands and knees. Like this, over the phone... he lets himself embrace how badly JJ wants him.

“Go on, baby. Touch your entrance for me.”

Yuri chokes back a moan and does what he’s told. He feels the heat of his skin under the pads of his fingertips, a delicate place he’s never touched before.

“Don’t rush, there’s no hurry. Just run your finger over it, light touches.”

It’s a strange and foreign sensation, but he’s already so hard and it’s not unpleasant. He knows a little about this process and he alternates between teasing the outside of his hole and tracing his finger gently over the sensitive space between his balls and his ass.  

“I bet you look so beautiful, right now…”

He might be the one touching himself, but he knows that JJ is the reason this is happening. JJ is the reason his cock is aching, leaking steadily against his stomach. It won’t take much now. He’s pressing against his hole, not quite entering himself but tantalizing.

“Do you have lube around?”

Yuri does, but his face burns at the idea of admitting it. He makes a wordless sound of affirmation. It takes him almost no time at all to retrieve the bottle and when he does he slicks up his entrance, leaving his fingers wet.

“You ready?”

“Just get on with it,” Yuri commands. He’s not going to let JJ treat him like some kind of wilting flower.

“Tilt a little farther forward, keep your knees apart and go slow,” JJ instructs.

The feeling of being entered for the first time is utterly new. He’s relaxed, he’s turned on, he’s well prepared, but it’s still a little uncomfortable. He adjusts fairly quickly and before he knows it he’s got his finger worked all the way inside him. He must have been silent for a while because the next thing he hears is: “You alright, Yuri? You still with me?”

“It’s...yeah, I am,” he gasps out, unable to find the words to describe the feeling of fullness.

“Alright, kitten, we’re almost there. I want you to bend your finger up for me. Find the spot inside you,” JJ says, his voice blatantly uneven and broken sounding.

He tries a few times with no effect, listening to the sounds of JJ’s pleasure as he works. The moment he locates his prostate, it’s like he’s been filled with thousands of volts of electricity. “Nngh...I ca-...mmm,” he tries to tell JJ that he’s got it, but when he tries his voice dissolves into filthy moans.

He reaches one hand around and begins to stroke his length in time with the touches to his prostate. He’s utterly drunk on the feeling. It’s a new sense of fullness. Yuri bites his lips and arches his back. He’s so turned on that even the unfamiliar strain on his muscles feels nice. He does his best to stifle the sounds he can’t help but release.

“It...oh, _fuck_ , it feels _so_ good,” Yuri moans.

JJ lets out a low whine, filled with want and unspoken promises. Yuri can practically see him gripping his dick, hand stroking wildly, the sheen of precome aiding the slide of his hand.

“Fuck, you're so hot…so good for me. Tell me what you’re thinking,” JJ begs, an echo of the way Yuri once asked him a similar question.

When he’s like this, teetering on the edge of an explosive orgasm, he’s willing to say things he’d otherwise find humiliating.

And so, when JJ asks, he tells him.

“You. You between my legs, your mouth around my cock, just like in your dream. Finally putting your tongue to use instead of talking endlessly. My hands in your stupid fucking haircut. Tugging at your hair. Feeling you swallow around me.”

JJ moans, loud and uninhibited when he comes. He gasps out Yuri’s name, over and over again like a prayer. “Yuri, _fuck,_ Yuri…Mhmm, I’m g-”

The sounds of JJ’s orgasm are enough to do him in.

(He won't give him the satisfaction of moaning out his name, but it takes all he has to suppress it. He knows how bad JJ wants to hear it, and he thinks that, maybe, someday, he wants to give him that.)

For now, he cries out wordlessly and comes hard. His senses are on fire, an exquisite thrill that he feels in every nerve ending of his body. It’s the most intense pleasure he’s ever felt. For a long moment he’s beyond anything, beyond words and beyond breath. The focus of his world narrows down to the complete relaxation and contentment of his muscles.

“Are you still there?” JJ asks after a beat. He sounds as happily exhausted as Yuri feels, like he’s just finished running a mile.

“Well, you didn’t hear me hang up, did you?”

JJ tries to stifle a laugh and the resulting sound most closely resembles a snort. “Are you always this feisty after you’ve had mind-blowing phone sex?”

“I’ll let you know if I ever have mind-blowing phone sex.”

JJ laughs again, this time it’s full and unrestrained. “God, talking to you is just like stepping on the ice. It's either going to be beautiful or I'm going to spend the next few months going over every misstep in my head.”

Neither of them know exactly what to say after that.

It brings up the metaphorical elephant in the airwaves.

(It also reveals the fact that JJ actually has the capacity to analyze his own mistakes, which Yuri files away for later.)

For the first time in a while, the silence between them is uncomfortable. His mind is churning and on instinct he reverts back to his old standby. “I'll beat you out there,” Yuri says, but his voice gives away the strength of the orgasm he just had.

“You probably will,” JJ admits, and there isn't a hint of doubt or hesitation in his voice. He sounds utterly relaxed, like he's sprawled out on the bed just languishing in what they've done.

Yuri was planning to hang up on that note, as he’d done last time, but JJ’s response surprises him. He always surprises him.

“That doesn’t bother you?” he asks.

“Losing to you isn’t really losing, is it? Believe it or not, I want to see you succeed.”

“Then you’re an idiot,” he sniffs, but his face is red. The other skater talks to Yuri like he knows every raw nerve, every exposed corner. He doesn’t know how to react to the affection he hears in JJ’s voice.

“Why is that? Because I like you?”

(In a move he will deny until his dying day, Yuri’s heart skips a beat.)

“You... _like me_?” He doesn’t actually mean to sound so disgusted, he was going for sarcasm, but either way, the disbelief is clear.

This time when he laughs it’s a little quieter, a little less polished. If it were anyone but JJ it would sound self-conscious. “Fuck, Yuri, it’s not exactly a state secret.”

He opens his mouth to say something but no sound comes out. The admission hangs between them. His body feels hot all over.

By some blessing of fate, he’s spared the need to respond when he hears Yakov and Lilia coming in the front door.

“I...have to go,” Yuri says, taking in the sight of his naked body, the drying cum on his hand and abdomen. “They’re home now.”

The sound of their return to the apartment must carry because JJ offers no resistance. “I understand, have a nice night, chaton.”

He sounds almost resigned, and to his shock, Yuri feels like he needs to say something. Needs to offer something in return. Time is ticking down and it’s not a lie to say he needs to gets cleaned up before his coaches notice his absence.

"Wait…,” he says.

JJ doesn't say anything but the white noise on the other end of the line means that he hasn't hung up. 

“I guess I don’t….you know…. _hate_ you,” Yuri says lamely.

It shouldn’t be enough to mean anything.

It shouldn't be, but it is.

This time when JJ says goodbye, Yuri can hear him smiling. His cheeks are still red.

* * *

 After that, they share a few phone calls over the next week, calls that always end with him gasping for breath and washing cum from his hands. He looks forward to them, even if he won't admit it. JJ is open about his want, but Yuri plays the game close to the vest. He won't initiate, doesn't like to let JJ see him asking for anything. Surprising no one, JJ possesses no shame and has no problem asking for everything, and often. Yuri comes more in a week than he has in the last two months.

* * *

 

They're texting one day, in the middle of a discussion on the merits of tiger print versus cheetah print, when JJ breaks their unspoken rule. They haven't brought up the Grand Prix, but still he asks: _Can I see you in Marseille?_

_We're skating on the same ice. You're going to see me._

_That's not what I mean._

_I know._

_So, what do you think?_

_I think...we'll see._

_That's not a 'no'!_   JJ texts back almost immediately. 

_That's not a 'no'._

 

**Author's Note:**

> I'm so sorry. I apparently lack any sort of control over this story. I swore to myself that they were going to actually meet up in this installment, but apparently this had to happen first. For the record, I know the 2017 Grand Prix won't be in Marseille, but since the location doesn't seem to be set, that's the location I went with.
> 
> I've already written part of a third work in the series, and, if all goes well, this time I promise the dicks will actually going to touch. 
> 
> If you're on mobile and unable to hover, the translation for "Я хочу тебя!" is "I want you!". Chaton is kitten in French.
> 
> Thank you to everyone who hasn't abandoned this pairing, and to everyone who has read this far. Special thanks to [Hearii](http://archiveofourown.org/works/8666818) and [gunboots](http://archiveofourown.org/works/8714557/chapters/19978996), whose amazing fics are basically the reason I'm here. (I desperately want to befriend both of you.)


End file.
